


The Kolechian Defector

by Pidgeapodge



Category: Papers Please (Video Game)
Genre: Cute, Defection, F/M, Immigration & Emigration, POV First Person, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25040728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pidgeapodge/pseuds/Pidgeapodge
Summary: Elisa is a young woman from Kolechia. With nothing left for her in her native land, she wishes to defect to Arstotzka to be with her love, Sergiu. Will she make it past the border? This is a fic from Elisa's point of view as she goes through the Grestin Checkpoint.
Relationships: Elisa Katsenja/Sergiu Volda
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	The Kolechian Defector

Alone on my birthday, I clutched my passport to my chest and shivered in the cold wind.

It was quarter to six in the morning on December 18, 1982. I turned twenty on that day. And all of my family was dead.

Well, all of my family that mattered, anyway.

My father was killed early during the war. He was praying in a church when a bomb landed on it.

It was a Kolechian bomb. They thought there were Arstotzkan spies inside, when there were only faithful praying.

My mother died within the next few months. Food was short, and she starved herself so that we could live.

My older sister was working as a nurse on the front lines when she stepped on a landmine.

My grandparents died of influenza. Medical aid was scarce and unreliable, especially in Vedor, where our home was located.

The only family member I had left was my aunt, but she was a cruel and vindictive woman. She had no sympathy for my loss, for the loss of her own brother and parents. She treated me as a servant, to clean the house while she went to her Kolechian Patriot Society meetings. I felt like Cinderella in those old stories, made to be a slave to her guardian. How could I call such an evil woman family?

No, I had nothing left for me in Kolechia. Although the war had ended, the government still railed against the "Arstotzkan Injustice." Our paranoid dictator saw Arstotzkan spies everywhere. The Grand Legislator could never forgive Arstotzka for retaining hold of East Grestin.

No, I could bear it no longer. But if I was like Cinderella in the old stories, then I had finally received my invitation to the ball. My Prince Charming, my Sergiu, had sent me a message telling me to come to Arstotzka.

Oh, Sergiu! We had met during the war, during the period that Arstotzka had control over both East and West Grestin, about three years after the initial Kolechian invasion into Arstotzka. The Arstotzkan forces managed to come as far inland as Vedor! Until that point, I had believed my government's lies. I was terrified of the incoming Arstotzkan forces.

Would they kill us all? Would they take advantage of the women? Would they boil our children for food?

But the Arstotzkans did none of this. Of course, they had public executions of traitors and saboteurs, but most of the soldiers were agreeable towards the civilians. There were even some Arstotzkan soldiers who helped neighbor Karol Kowalska, a veteran who had lost his legs in the war. They bore him no ill will, even though they were enemies.

And then I met Sergiu. The first time I saw him, he was patrolling the area after dark when a little boy ran into his legs. I feared he would scold the boy, or worse, give him a beating, but instead Sergiu knelt down and told him to hurry quickly home, because it was dangerous outside at night. The boy nodded, and quickly ran home.

The second time I saw Sergiu, he was helping Karol. Since Karol could no longer walk, Sergiu was tending the garden for him.

The third time I saw him, I was helping my grandmother home from the market. My grandmother was very frail, and as we were walking she tripped over a piece of uneven ground. She fell, and cried out in pain. I bent down to try to help her when I heard footsteps approaching. Suddenly, a handsome man in an Arstotzkan military uniform was leaning over my grandmother as well.

He examined her leg. "It appears your leg has been broken, _babka_ ," he said to her. "Stay still."

He ran over to a fallen tree nearby and gathered some branches. He brought them over, and placed two shorter ones next to her leg. He set aside two branches as long as Grandmother herself, then he removed his jacket, took out a knife, and cut the sleeves off.

" _Babka_ , this will be painful. I will try to be gentle," he said.

"Do what you must, my son," said my grandmother. In her many years of life, she was no stranger to pain.

Taking the newly removed sleeves, the soldier lashed the branches to her leg to make a splint. Grandmother squeezed my hand, but did not cry out.

"There. That will serve for now, but we must get you proper medical care. Young miss," he said, addressing me, "can you go to that house over there and ask for a blanket so we can transport her? I think they will be more willing to help you than me. Tell them we will have it back by nightfall."

I nodded, my mouth dry and a lump in my throat. I ran over to the nearest house and knocked on the door.

A grizzled old man opened the door.

"Please, sir, my _babka_ has fallen, and-"

"Not my problem!" he shouted, and slammed the door.

I couldn't give up, Grandmother was counting on me. I ran over to the next house, and knocked again.

A young woman opened the door.

"Please, my _babka_ has fallen!" I said, indicating Grandmother and the soldier. "We need a blanket to safely move her! I promise we will return it by nighttime!"

"Wait here," said the woman. She closed the door, and I stood there waiting anxiously. A few seconds later, she returned, holding a dark blue blanket.

"Thank you, thank you so much!" I cried. I took the blanket and ran over to Grandmother and the soldier.

He took the blanket from me and spread it on the ground. He took the long branches and placed them about 60 centimeters apart in the center. The blanket was now split into three sections, with the two branches acting as the separating lines. The soldier folded the outer edges inwards, so that the blanket was now a third of the width it was before, now about 60 centimeters wide.

He moved the blanket with the branches right next to my grandmother. "I am going to put you on the stretcher," he said to her. "Please relax."

He firmly but gently lifted her top half and placed it on the makeshift stretcher. Then, he did the same with her legs. She winced, but did not cry out.

The soldier straightened and looked at me. "You will the legs, I will take the head. Face the same way I am, I will lead us up to the medical tent. Make sure to lift with your legs."

He counted to three, and we lifted Grandmother. We walked for some time until we arrived at the Arstotzkan military encampment.

"This woman is injured, she needs treatment!" shouted the soldier.

We were directed to the medical tent and set the makeshift stretcher down on a bed. Immediately, Arstotzkan nurses began attending to her. The soldier retrieved the blanket from underneath her.

"You are safe here, _babka_. Rest well."

"Thank you, my son." Grandmother closed her eyes.

The soldier looked to me. "We should get this blanket back to that woman."

I nodded, numb. As we left the camp, I looked to him.

"Thank you. My grandmother, my _babka_ , I-" I stuttered, "she and my grandfather are all I have left. Thank you, thank you so much!"

"Think nothing of it. May I ask your name?"

"Me?" I asked. "I-I'm Elisa."

"A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. My name is Sergiu, Sergiu Volda."

My heart fluttered. I hadn't known his name before that.

After returning the blanket, Sergiu knocked on the door of the rude man and berated him for treating me so poorly. "How dare you dishonor one of your own comrades and leave an old lady to suffer!" he demanded. I was touched that he thought so highly of my honor and my grandmother's life.

After that encounter, I would find any excuse to be with Sergiu. Grandmother also doted on him, after she was discharged. It caused many arguments with my aunt, who thought anyone who cooperated with the Arstotzkans as traitors. Even so, I was happy. Even in the midst of war, I found happiness.

Sergiu and I quickly fell in love. I hoped and prayed that we would be together forever. He was so funny, and thoughtful, and above all, kind.

He was even with me at my grandparent's death bed, helping them in their final hours as the influenza overtook them. My aunt was not.

As the war raged on, Arstotzka kept hold of Vedor, but lost West Grestin. Vedor became an island of Arstotzkan influence behind Kolechian lines. Finally, a ceasefire was declared and a treaty was signed. Vedor was returned to Kolechian rule, and Arstotzka kept hold of East Grestin. Sergiu was recalled back to his home.

* * *

A loud buzzing roused me from my thoughts. I heard the rattling of metal as Arstotzkan guards opened the gates. A large clock on the outside wall of the checkpoint showed that it was six o'clock in the morning.

I could hear the crowd stirring. After saving up money for months, scrounging everything that I could; after riding the train from Vedor to West Grestin, the roar of the train keeping me awake all night; after arriving at this spot at two in the morning and standing here for hours, I was close. I was so close! My Sergiu was waiting for me!

I looked down at my passport. I had only acquired it recently. The Kolechian Ministry of Travel denied me several times over the past few months.

It was a little maroon booklet with the Kolechian Star on the cover. The "star" actually looked more like a yellow, eight-pointed asterisk. I looked behind me, towards the Kolechian side. On a pole near the Arstotzkan checkpoint, Kolechia was flying their national flag. It was almost exactly the same as the passport; a golden, eight-spoked asterisk on a maroon banner, fluttering in the breeze.

"NEXT," rumbled the loudspeakers on the checkpoint. The first person entered the checkpoint. Counting him, I was the third person in line.

I clutched my passport tightly. I was so, so close! _I'm coming, Sergiu!_

My love was waiting for me, just across the border. All that separated us was a chain-link fence topped with razor wire.

Sergiu and I tried to keep in contact, but the Kolechian mail was heavily monitored. Even when his messages reached me, I would have to rush to get his mail before my aunt.

"ARSTOTZKA WELCOMES YOU. NEXT," rumbled the loudspeakers.

The person directly in front of me entered the checkpoint.

Now, I was the first in line.

I began feeling even more restless than before. I looked at the crowd behind me. Most of the people seemed cold and gloomy. Very, very far back there was a small, bald gentleman with a sparse grey beard and a large smile handing little baggies of some sort of white powder to some of the others in line. Some Arstotzkan border guards approached and arrested them. The small man looked more resigned than upset that he was being detained. The guards all seemed to ignore the suspicious-looking man in a black cloak standing just behind the small man.

Bouncing with excitement, I looked forward at the checkpoint again. It was a small, grey building plastered in notices and slogans. Next to the door was a list of the forms foreigners needed to enter the country, too small to read from where I was standing. Elsewhere on the wall was the symbol of the Arstotzkan Workers' Party: a golden hammer inside of a red star, itself inside of a purple shield, with both the star and the shield outlined in gold. Over the door was the fierce image of the Arstotzkan Eagle, wings raised up and head looking up and to its left. On its chest was a shield with a diagonal line on it. Underneath the eagle's feet were the words: GLORY TO ARSTOTZKA.

I tried not to look at the guards. I didn't want to appear suspicious and get detained. Not when I was so close! Oh, Sergiu, just a little while longer!

I thought back to a few days ago. Sergiu had sent a message to me via an Arstotzkan spy working in Kolechia. The spy told me that Sergiu was waiting for me, and that the border guard at Grestin was friends with him and would help me. Sergiu had even sent enough money to pay for the trip! In all, I had enough to escape with 100 credits left over!

"PLEASE HAVE YOUR PAPERS IN ORDER. NEXT," rumbled the checkpoint.

My heart leapt into my throat. It was my turn! I could hardly believe it. Clutching my passport so tightly that my hands went numb, I stepped forward and entered the checkpoint.

Inside, most of the room sat in darkness. Harsh light poured over the inspector's desk, situated in the wall. A security camera pointed straight at the desk, watching us closely.

I took a deep breath and approached the desk, blinking under the bright lights

"Papers, please," asked the inspector. He was about thirty or so years of age. His neatly-combed black hair showed no grey underneath his peaked cap, but his face showed the beginnings of wrinkles and his eyes had dark circles underneath. He did not have an unpleasant face, but it was obviously the face of a tired man who just wanted to do his job. Despite his hard exterior, his eyes were the eyes of a kind man. He wore a black peaked cap with the red Arstotzkan Ministry of Admissions badge pinned to the front, and an impressive but worn green uniform.

"Hello. Do you know Sergiu?" I asked. "He said you would help." I looked down at the passport in my hands. "Please. My family is gone. I have only Sergiu left."

I handed him my passport with shaking hands. He opened it and looked between me and the passport several times. Then, he looked at something else on his desk that was hidden from my view. Finally, he set the passport down and looked me in the eyes.

"You do not have the required documentation."

My heart broke that very instant. This couldn't be happening. Not when I was so close! No!

With a voice barely above a whisper, I simply told him the truth.

"I tried for so long. They would not allow me to leave."

How could I have been so stupid? Kolechia rarely allowed people to leave. They hadn't even told me the requirements.

"You don't have an entry permit?" asked the inspector. "An I.D. supplement? Proof of vaccination? Anything?"

I sadly shook my head no. I couldn't even look the inspector in the eyes. The way he asked the questions made it seem like he _wanted_ me to be able to enter.

I heard the _ka-thunk!_ of the inspector stamping my passport. He slid the little booklet over to me, still open to my information page. I knew that just above my information, on the visa page, was stamped in large, unmistakable letters-

_Granted?_

I blinked. I rubbed my eyes. Was I really seeing this?

Yes! Instead of an ugly red "denied," the letters were printed in the most beautiful green: _GRANTED_.

I looked up at the inspector. He smiled at me, and then placed a small metal object in my hands. It was the locket I had given Sergiu to remember me by when he was recalled to Arstotzka.

"He is waiting for you," said the inspector.

"My love. I miss him. Thank you so much, I will never forget your kindness."

I could barely breathe. In a daze, I walked away from the inspector's desk towards the door on the East Grestin side. Pausing, I looked back at the inspector and heard a machine on his desk whirring. Whatever it was, he ignored it as he continued to smile at me.

"Cause no trouble," he said, waving.

My eyes clouded over with tears. I waved back, loudly saying "Glory to Arstotzka!"

I opened the door, and there he was.

Sergiu.

My love.

 _My_ Sergiu!

I couldn't hold it in. I shouted his name.

"SERGIU!"

He saw me. "ELISA!"

I ran towards him, as he dropped his rifle and ran towards me. We met halfway, and as Sergiu swept me into his arms I kissed him as I had never kissed him before.

Those few moments were total bliss. I was only barely aware of the other guards' cheering, or of the checkpoint loudspeakers rumbling, "NEXT." All I could think of was my Sergiu, the way he felt in my arms, his taste on my lips, his smell in my nose.

Finally, we pulled apart. His face was wet with tears, and he caressed my cheek softly.

"I missed you so much," he whispered, as if he spoke too loudly I would disappear.

But I would not disappear. I was here. My new home. Arstotzka. Nothing could take me away from my Sergiu again.

He put his arm around my shoulders and together we walked back to the guards' barracks away from the border fence. I looked up at the guard tower.

Instead of the Kolechian flag, I saw the Arstotzkan flag flying majestically in the wind. It was black, with three dark green stripes running lengthwise across the center of the flag. In the very center was a fiercely red Arstotzkan Eagle, wings extended and head held high upward and towards its left. The eagle featured a black shield on its chest, and the shield had a diagonal line descending sharply from the eagle's left to right. To some, this flag represented war, death, totalitarianism, all manner of evil things.

But to me, with my Sergiu by my side, it stood for hope. For joy. For freedom.

I paused, took Sergiu's face, and kissed him again.

I was finally safe. I was finally home. I could finally be with my Sergiu.

Glory to Arstotzka!


End file.
